Canvas
by ThisCouldTheoreticallyBeSparta
Summary: Ezio gave him a sceptical look, and Leonardo chuckled again. Reaching out with his paintbrush, he slashed across Ezio's nose. Ezio gasped in shock. "Paint the wall, not me!"


**CANVAS**

Fandom: Assassin's Creed

Pairing: EzioLeo

Genre: fluffy PWP

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Altaïr, Ezio and compagnia bella belong to Ubisoft.

Summary: Ezio gave him a sceptical look, and Leonardo chuckled again. Reaching out with his paintbrush, he slashed across Ezio's nose. Ezio gasped in shock. "Paint the wall, not me!"

A/n: for Doubleleaf. Happy Birthday! You've probably had much more satisfactory gifts, and certainly better-written ones. Please accept this humble gift.

This is also a contestant in the Crappiest Title Awards 2011.

.

Ezio was used to chaos. Leonardo's order was simply his own version of chaos. It appeared to work for the artist, this organised mess. He knew where everything was, and whenever one of his assistants dared to try and tidy anything up, it made Leonardo go mad.

But he was not expecting the greeting he received on slipping silently through the window. It seemed Leonardo had finally gone completely mad.

He'd pulled everything away from the plain, white-plastered wall opposite the window, piling it haphazardly as far from harm's way as possible. He was now sitting, cross-legged, on the floor, a paintbrush in hand, in only his britches and shirt-sleeves, and was studying the wall in front of him with the deepest concentration. He jumped when Ezio made a floorboard creak on purpose.

"Oh, _there_ you are!"

Ezio gave him a wary look as Leonardo got to his feet and made his way over.

"Undress!" he ordered. Ezio raised an eyebrow.

"Someone is eager," he said, smirking as he began to unclasp his cape. Leonardo scoffed.

"Do not be foolish," he said breezily, waving a dismissive hand as he strode back over to the wall. "What do you see when you look here?"

Ezio, fighting down disappointment and an unmanly pout, just stared at the bare wall. This was one of Leonardo's trick questions. The artist was in the huge world of his imagination, and Ezio couldn't begin to even fathom its surface. Leonardo's mind was so vast and profound and full of things Ezio couldn't understand, not even if he had the privilege to see within. He was far too pragmatic and literal for these sort of things.

"A wall?" he chanced. Leonardo chuckled.

"Yes, yes… but what do you think it could be? Reach out!"

Ezio was now bewildered. Leonardo was going through another 'look for the inspiration' moment. He sometimes did it with his assistants, but they knew when to make themselves scarce, knowing the signals of one of their master's imaginary voyages. Ezio seemed to have a knack for appearing right in the middle of one.

The Assassin placed his armour and uniform on an upturned box, now in only his britches and undershirt, and leant against the wall. Leonardo, ignoring the exorbitant cost of paint, had mixed some huge pots of them, and, discarding the paintbrush, dipped his fingers into a pale blue worthy of the Virgin's robes. Leonardo's fingers ran along the wall, swooping along in abstract shapes and swirls, spirals and angles and whole array of shapes Ezio had no name for.

Scowling, the artist stepped back and studied his handiwork critically. He was muttering under his breath. He simply could not express himself sometimes. Paint seemed so _limiting_, as much as he loved it…

Suddenly, he turned, strode over to Ezio and dragged him over to the wall. "You try!"

Ezio stared at him. "Have you gone mad?"

Leonardo sighed as if Ezio was a particularly stupid student of his and shoved the Assassin's hand in one of the pots. Ezio's fingers came out a fresh green the colour of spring leaves and he flicked them unthinkingly. The flecks spattered the wall, and Leonardo let out a great 'Ha!' of triumph. Dipping his fingers in a pot of deep, honey-coloured yellow, he roughly flipped his hand. The yellow spatters dotted the wall, making Leonardo laugh. Ezio just shook his head with an indulgent smile, and began looking round for a rag to wipe his hand on. But before he could move, Leonardo had flicked his fingers at Ezio's shirt. The Assassin baulked and took a step back, frowning.

"Leonardo!"

The artist merely stuck his tongue out and chuckled, taking up his paintbrush again. Ezio huffed to himself and decided the wall would be the best place to clean his hands. With his meagre artistic skills, he drew some swirls and wavy lines, unsure of what they were. He only stopped when he felt Leonardo's eyes on him.

"Yes?" he asked. Leonardo smiled and dipped his paintbrush in the red pot. With a few easy, simple lines, he painted four vibrant roses, using Ezio's green lines as stalks. Ezio grinned, using his thumb to create a few smudges that only a particularly kind soul could have defined as leaves.

"Lovely," Leonardo stated, nodding happily. Ezio snorted.

"Your roses. My green blotches are… ugly."

"Don't be silly," Leonardo said dismissively. "Every rose needs a stem."

Ezio gave him a sceptical look, and Leonardo chuckled again. Reaching out with his paintbrush, he slashed across Ezio's nose.

Ezio gasped in shock. "Paint the wall, not me!"

"I can do both!" Leonardo said, his tone one of deep amusement. Ezio merely rolled his eyes and covered his fingers in yellow paint. As his artistic skills were considered particularly meagre even by those who could not draw themselves, the sun he painted was mediocre at best. That didn't stop Leonardo from adding some clouds and a bird. Ezio then took the red paint again, and began to create a squiggly, rather ugly-looking outline, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Leonardo tilted his head.

"What is it?" he asked warily. Ezio sighed.

"It was supposed to be an eagle…" he mumbled, feeling decidedly embarrassed at his lack of ability. Leonardo scratched his cheek absently, leaving a smear of blue, and reached into the pot of yellow. Next to the eagle that looked more like a pigeon that had hit a wall, he drew a simple but nonetheless recognisable lion. Ezio just laughed.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked. Leonardo stuck his tongue out and corrected Ezio's eagle, just enough to make it an actual eagle. And, quick as a flash, he reached out and rubbed his fingers on Ezio's cheek.

Ezio growled, crouching down and dunking both his hands in two different colours, his expression mischievous. Leonardo's eyes widened and he tried to flee – in vain, of course. He cried out, half-laughing, when Ezio grabbed him and lifted him up, covering his shirt in bright, vibrant colours. "No!"

"You started it!" Ezio grunted, letting out a shout of his own as Leonardo's weight and struggling led him to trip backwards over a stray piece of wood, knocking one of the pots over. Leonardo rolled away, laughing, and Ezio groaned, sitting up.

He quickly found himself splashed with green paint, while Leonardo kept laughing. Two could play at this game, he decided. He reached behind himself for one of the pots, the blue one, and knocked that one over too.

Cursing, he glanced over his shoulder, and Leonardo pounced, whacking yet another pot to the floor, this one the red. Ezio had the wind knocked out of him and a face full of paint. Overpowered by Leonardo. How humiliating.

"Devil!" Ezio snarled good-naturedly, rolling them over into the mingling pools of fallen tint. It quickly degenerated into a wrestling match, both heedless of the paint sticking to their clothes and hair as Leonardo strove to gain the upper hand, and failed, pinned by Ezio straddling him. Leonardo tried to shove Ezio away, still laughing breathlessly, as the Assassin ran paint-drenched hands through his hair. Bucking up, the artist attempted to throw Ezio. Both stilled, gasping for breath, as desire began to settle over them. Ezio just leaned down and pressed his lips to the other's, sneaking his tongue out, ignoring the taste of paint and searching for that of Leonardo.

Meanwhile, the artist's hands had begun to wander, remembering well-known paths down Ezio's back, across his chest through thin linen. He slid his fingers beneath Ezio's shirt, smearing the other's stomach with paint. Ezio pulled away for a moment, licking his lips.

"You are overdressed," he said, urging Leonardo to sit up. He barely waited for the artist to comply to wrench his shirt off, going in for Leonardo's neck like a man starved. Paint-covered fingers spread over Leonardo's pale back, pulling him closer, pressing him to Ezio's chest.

"You as well…" Leonardo muttered, swiftly unbuttoning Ezio's own shirt to get at the hard sinew within. He painted the scar trails he found with the sky blue on his fingers, halting his work when he reached the waistband of Ezio's britches. With a devilish smirk that to Ezio was all too familiar, Leonardo pushed him down and stole a kiss, bringing his leg up to brush Ezio's groin. The Assassin grunted and ground down on Leonardo's thigh, making the other laugh into their kiss.

"Eager, Ezio?" he asked, pulling away to line kisses down Ezio's bared neck, his beard scraping the other's skin raw. Ezio merely lay back, breath becoming shorter and cock becoming harder with every moment. Leonardo headed lower, lapping and biting at smooth plains, hardened nipples and heaving ridges. Oh, Ezio had the body of a Greek god. What wouldn't he have given to sculpt it… But what did cold marble have on the hot, living reality beneath Leonardo's mouth and fingers? With a smirk, he mouthed Ezio's shaft through his britches, cupping his balls and feeling the Assassin fully hard underneath his ministrations.

With a growl, Ezio sat up and practically ripped the laces of his trousers, staring at Leonardo with a deep, lustful gaze that merely made the other man chuckle lightly and curl his fingers around Ezio's now-free erection. He briefly entertained the possibility of drawing the other man out, making him beg, but he was not in the mood for such things himself. His own desire pulsed roughly through his veins, throbbing in his temples and his cock, itching under his skin.

With a low hum he wrapped his lips around Ezio's cock, sucking gently at first, merely to enjoy Ezio's panting. He waited until the other man had woven his fingers in his hair again to truly let himself enjoy his mouthful, hollowing his cheeks and pulling back to swirl his tongue around the hot head, knowing exactly how to make Ezio writhe. It came as a surprise when Ezio urged him to stop.

Leonardo raised his head, frowning slightly. Ezio seemed undone, frayed at the hem, but he still managed a smirk. "Enough of this…"

Leonardo felt a leg between his own, rubbing slowly against his own hard shaft. He could not help but moan at the attention his neglected member was finally receiving.

"Roll over?" Not a demand, a request. Leonardo obeyed, and Ezio untied the laces of his britches one-handedly, using his other to tweak Leonardo's nipples as his tongue circled his navel, trailing lower, teething his way down towards Leonardo's now free cock.

As he tugged down the other's britches, he flattened his tongue against the smooth underside of Leonardo's shaft, and cast around for something – anything – that would ease his way into the man beneath him. His hand fell upon the only remaining pot of paint, but Leonardo gripped his shoulder painfully.

Ezio looked up, frowning. Leonardo's gaze could have cut glass.

"Do not even _think_ of using paint as lubrication," he said coldly. Ezio almost shrank away with a sheepish grin.

"Well, it's wet…"

"It _dries_. Therefore you can rightly see why I want it nowhere near my nether regions."

Ezio did not want to admit he still wasn't entirely used to sex without… natural aid. However, Leonardo was gone across the room, rooting in a box. He threw a small bottle at Ezio, who caught it deftly. He opened it and sniffed, blinking in surprise.

"You keep _this_ in your attic?"

Leonardo merely smirked and returned to his lover, winding his arms languidly around Ezio's shoulders, pulling him down into a kiss. "Why not? Everything has its uses…"

Once again, Ezio was pleasantly dazed by the other man's eccentricity, and forethought. "You will never cease to amaze me…" he breathed, coating his fingers with the mixture. Kissing down Leonardo's neck, he trailed a slick finger over Leonardo's balls, his perineum, the cleft of his arse, circling his hole almost tentatively, as if waiting for permission. Leonardo, laughing breathily, parted his legs even further to allow Ezio to slide his middle finger in. With a short gasp, he dug his fingers into the nape of Ezio's neck.

Ezio soon fell into a short rhythm, stroking gently, until he felt confident enough to slip another finger into the other man. He drove his fingers in and out, halting and scissoring and longing to be within those tight confines. He groaned into Leonardo's mouth when the artist kissed him again, twining their tongues together.

"Enough… I need it. I need you," Leonardo ground out, his blues eyes glazed and needy. Ezio complied, pulling his fingers out and coating himself with the oil Leonardo had lying around so conveniently.

"I… I don't think I will give too much thought to the reason you have oil in your attic…" he muttered, chuckling as he aligned himself with Leonardo's entrance. The artist merely rolled his eyes and thrust down onto Ezio's cock as he was breached, gritting his teeth at the welcome intrusion, the slight pain more than bearable.

The Assassin stilled above his lover, panting. Leonardo was tight, hot and always oh-so-different from a woman. From the hard chest to the thick cock to this… This heady, delicious sensation never failed to overwhelm him. He trembled, holding himself, until Leonardo growled and gripped his thighs.

"Move, by God…"

Ezio pulled out almost fully, thrusting in once more with all the force he could muster. Leonardo groaned, burying his face in Ezio's neck as he thrust back. They moved together, rough and hard and strong and everything they both needed so desperately.

Ezio allowed himself to be lost in the rhythm, breathing in the scent of Leonardo's skin, dust, paint and the lust that lay thick on them. Lost in the wandering of hands and mouth, in the counterpoint of groans and muddled words. His hands spread on Leonardo's thighs, splaying more colour over the layers already there.

Leonardo moaned against the other man's skin, hands meandering over Ezio's strong buttocks and broad back, feeling the powerful movement of honed muscles beneath olive skin. Biting his lip, he reached for the only pot of paint still standing, a dark, strong green. Dipping his fingers, he scribbled his name over Ezio's shoulder blades, in his elegant, backwards writing.

"Are you content now?" Ezio gasped out, laughing and nipping Leonardo's earlobe. He was reaching his climax, he could feel its coils in the pit of his stomach, the tightness of his balls. Leonardo joined in his breathless mirth.

"I would say so…"

He reached between them to grip his cock, stiff and begging for attention. Ezio stiffened above him, choking out a broken groan as he came, deep within the other. Trembling, his hand joined Leonardo's through the daze of orgasm and drew the artist's own pleasure out, fingers slick with hot seed. And finally he allowed himself to fall limp beside Leonardo, chest heaving. Leonardo rolled over weakly, resting his head on Ezio's breast and searching for the other's fingers with his own.

"We should wash," he said tiredly, wriggling his fingers experimentally. "It is merely sticky now, but it will harden and grow stiff and we will both regret getting it on parts we would rather remained immaculate."

Ezio chuckled. "I should imagine we are also a sight to behold."

Absently he ran a finger through the dark green paint and wrote his own name on Leonardo's back. The artist huffed, kissing Ezio's chest lazily. They lay a few moments longer, content to bask, until Leonardo pulled away and stretched.

"Come, before we become statues."

Ezio grumbled weakly, but Leonardo stood and pulled him up with him. "We are lucky my assistants are all out," he said, kissing the other man idly.

And he pulled Ezio after him, in the search for water, soap and a few cloths.


End file.
